


treats

by hexmionegranger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Drabble, F/F, F/M, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Multi, Swingers, background Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 01:55:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8426119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hexmionegranger/pseuds/hexmionegranger
Summary: “I know who you are.” Pansy frowned, dropping her hand onto her hip. “Oh? How’s that, sweetheart?” Ginny rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows who you are. Pansy Parkinson, head cheerleader, major bitch, the usual.” Pansy gasped, mock-hurt, and lifted a hand to press over her heart. “Why darling, you do hurt me so.” Ginny shrugged, but she was still looking at Pansy’s candy-red lips, so Pansy figured she still had a chance. or: Pansy and Blaise are very good at sharing.





	

“Alright old sport, you ready to go?”

Pansy sighed, a long suffering sound, and fluffed up her blonde curls one last time, spinning on a heel to raise a newly-dyed blonde brow at her boyfriend.

“Seriously?” She asked, looking over at her boyfriend, who was leant against the doorway with a smug grin on his face. He extended his arm, martini glass in hand, and winked at her.

“‘ _I knew it was a great mistake for a man like me to fall in love_ -’” Pansy groaned and cut him off by closing the gap between them and planting her hand directly over his mouth.

“I never should have agreed to watch that stupid movie with you. Just because Leonardo DiCaprio is _stunning_ does not mean that you can dress up like one of his characters every single year!”

She felt his lips tweak under her fingers and then his warm tongue brushed across her palm and Pansy yelped, pulling back her hand and shaking it.

“Blaise it doesn’t even look like you’re wearing a costume!” She complained, rather petulantly, and once again he smirked at her, smile lines creasing into his perfectly smooth dark skin, eyes glinting under the harsh halogen dorm lights.

Without responding, he slipped his arm around his girlfriend’s waist and pulled her out of the room, shutting it behind him. “Well at least,” he said, teasingly. “I’m not Marilyn Monroe. Again.”

Pansy swatted at his arm and reached down to adjust the strap of her heel. “You’re only teasing because you think I’m stunning when I’m blonde.” Before she could stand back up, Blaise swatted her ass and she let out a small yelping noise as she straightened back out. “You’re infuriating.” She said, chidingly, and Blaise only laughed – loud and booming – and pressed his warm lips to her neck.

“Come along, my dear. We have a party to make an appearance at.”

* * *

 

“Really, Blaise? The swim team party?” Pansy couldn’t help but whine a little as Blaise pulled her up the pathway towards a rather ragged looking house, music and light and laughter pouring out of its windows and drunk girls in various states of undress sprawled laughing on the lawn.

“Trust me.” Blaise said, placating her, and reached a hand down to pinch at her backside, causing her to yelp again and shoot him a dangerous look, which he laughed at. “You’ll have fun. And if you don’t, we’ll leave, and then _we’ll_ have fun.”

Pansy grinned wickedly back at him. “That’s more like it.” She said, under her breath, and ghosted a kiss to his ear as they reached the door, Blaise going left and Pansy going right.

* * *

Overall, the party was mostly boring. Too much sticky beer and gross frat boys who kept trying to pull up her dress, laughing when she smacked their hands away. The music was good, at least, and it was entertaining to see what people decided were acceptable forms of costumes.  She was scanning the room again, looking to see if there was anyone who caught her interested, when she spotted _her_.

A short redhead, with two black stripes pained across her freckled cheeks and a bulky letterman jacket hanging off her torso. She was playing beer pong against Ultra Jock Marcus Flint and, from the sounds of it, absolutely kicking his ass.

Pansy was intrigued.

Shaking off the conversation that she was only half listening to, Pansy made her way through the throngs of people until she was next to the table, and watched as the girl, who she had nicknamed “little red” in her brain, sunk the game winning shot. She threw her arms up in the air and cheered and Marcus mumbled something about ‘beginners luck’ and sulked off towards the keg. Little red poured her beer back all into one cup and drank half of it in one gulp.

Pansy was _very_ intrigued.

Glancing in her hand mirror to make sure her red lipstick still looked perfect – it did – she closed the distance between her and the shorter girl and flashed her best charming, seductive smile.

“Good game,” she purred, and the girl looked up at her, searching her face for mockery or malice, but when she saw none she smiled in response.

“Thanks.”

Pansy took a sip from the flask she was carrying (as if she was expected to drink warm cheap beer, please) and then put her hand on the shorter girls, pulling her away from the table and to a spot in the room where people didn’t keep bumping into her.

“Pansy,” she said, as they settled into a quieter area, and extended her hand.

“Ginny,” the redhead responded, not taking her hand. “I know who you are.”

Pansy frowned, dropping her hand onto her hip. “Oh? How’s that, sweetheart?”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows who you are. Pansy Parkinson, head cheerleader, major bitch, the usual.”

Pansy gasped, mock-hurt, and lifted a hand to press over her heart. “Why darling, you do hurt me so.”

Ginny shrugged, but she was still looking at Pansy’s candy-red lips, so Pansy figured she still had a chance.

“So, little red, what do you do?” She drawled, lifting a hand to twist through one of Ginny’s red locks and twirling it. The shorter woman smirked up at her.

“Swim team. Duh. This is our party?”

Pansy shrugged, indifferent, and stepped a little closer. “You picked an interesting Halloween costume. I bet you’ve got a great bod under that big hunk of leather.”

Ginny was clearly no stranger to fighting fire with fire, and placed a hand on Pansy’s hip, brushing over it through her thin white dress. “And I don’t have to bet in return.”

Pansy was doing her best to push down her predatory grin as she cheered internally. She loved when she beat Blaise to finding someone to bring home. She was about to ask Ginny’s feelings on handcuffs, when the girl turned away from her and pointed at a couple off in the distance. 

“Hey,” Ginny said then, looking away with a smile on her face. “Isn’t that your ex-boyfriend?”

Indeed, it was. And boy, was he making a fool of himself. Who would have ever thought they’d see the day when Draco Malfoy stood on a table, dancing with none other than Hermione Granger. His costume was boring – black pants and a black shirt and his ridiculous blonde hair gelled up into some strange twist. But Granger’s was even better, she was wearing tight leather pants and a black off-the-shoulder top, her hair was large and curly, and she was shaking her shoulders at Draco and off-beat lip-syncing the words to Grease.

Pansy glanced back at Ginny and sighed. “I’m going to make sure he doesn’t commit too much social suicide. Wait here,” and then she slipped back off into the crowd.

* * *

When she returned, having pulled both Draco and Granger _off_ the table and shoved them towards the stairs where they could get a room like _normal_ people, she was pleased to see that Ginny was still where she had left her, and less pleased to see that she was giggling as a tall man whispered something in her ear.

Not just _any_ tall man.

Blaise.

Damn.

Pansy huffed out her frustration and made her way back over to the corner of the room where she had left the redhead, sliding up beside her on the other side.

“Miss me?” She purred, and Ginny turned slightly away from Blaise, a strange look on her face.

Blaise glanced up and shot her a don’t-ruin-this-for-me look, and Pansy rolled her eyes in response. He always wanted to be the one to win at their little game, but she had seen Ginny first and damned if she wouldn’t be the one to make the first move.

“Am I missing something?” Ginny asked, small fingers pressed against Blaise’s chest, underneath his suit jacket.

“I see you’ve met my boyfriend,” Pansy drawled, shooting Blaise an evil smirk. _That’ll teach him to move in on my territory_.

Ginny quickly pulled her hand off Blaise’s chest and pushed her curtain of red hair back from her face, and Pansy cheered internally when she had the grace to look disappointed. She stepped slightly away from Blaise but ran instead into Pansy, who was still watching her with that predatory look in her eyes. 

“What my lovely girlfriend isn’t telling you,” Blaise purred, his hand sliding lower along Ginny’s back and stepping forward a little again, pressing the redhead more between them. “Is that we have a rather… unconventional relationship.”

Pansy licked her bright red lips and nodded, running a finger over Ginny’s cheek and down across her jaw. “Yes, quite extraordinary. We’re both rather good at _sharing_ , you see.”

She watched as understanding flickered over Ginny’s face and then was quickly replaced with something that looked quite a lot like hunger, and then Ginny returned her hand to Pansy’s hip, looking between the two of them. “I think,” Ginny said, pensively, biting her lower lip into her mouth and glancing over Pansy’s tall thin form and then Blaise’s broad-shouldered chest. “I’ve always been a fan of sharing.”

* * *

Later that night, Ginny lay tangled in their green bed-sheets, red hair splayed across their pillows, black face paint smeared down her cheeks and red lipstick marks around both of her nipples. Pansy was propped up on her left, leaning on her elbow, drawing her french-tip fingernails in small swirling designs across Ginny’s taut stomach. Blaise lounged on her right side and his fingers were tracing small patterns across her thighs, occasionally darting upwards and drawing gasps from her lips.

“I’ve always,” Ginny mumbled, as Pansy moved her fingers up to pinch one of Ginny’s nipples and Blaise exchanged his nimble fingers for his warm tongue, “been a fan of sharing.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't help myself.
> 
> Wrote this in the middle of writing a paper for school, so any errors are the fault of my own and my impatience to post this rather than wait for a beta.
> 
> I also meant for their costumes to play a bigger part but, they didn't. My bad!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


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